From the Heart of a Daddy

The Bitterness of Insensitivity and the View from Eternity

Insensitivity. I’ve tried ignoring it. I’ve tried confronting it. Either way it’s making me bitter; bitter because I’ve allowed myself to be insensitive, and bitter because confronting it frustrates the motivation to change right out of me.
On June 22, 2009, the momentum of my life came to a lurching halt. Someone pressed “pause”, and I suddenly became strangely conscious of the beat of my heart as I listened to a diagnosis I didn’t want to hear. And when that diagnosis was finished being laid out like a cadaver on a cold table, the dissection began. What happened? Did we do something wrong that caused this to happen? What’s next? What will happen from here?
I walked out of a building that day with the new and unwelcome knowledge that my daughter, whom I had yet to meet face to face, would not live the life I desired for her. In fact, she wouldn’t live to see her first birthday. On top of that, a very strong chance existed that the date of her birth would also be the date of her death.
Three months have now passed and someone has yet to press “play”. I’ve been circling in this holding pattern whose monotonous existence seems to be numbing my ability to feel. Initially, right after the diagnosis, emotions flooded my life until I was so saturated they could do nothing but poor out of my soul like blood from a fatal wound. And when my body was completely drained, insensitivity began to set in like decay. I stopped confronting my feelings. I didn’t try to deal with them. I became insensitive to my wife and to others. My answers to the question, “how are you all doing?” became contrived. I stuffed my feelings into a dark attic and neglected them like an apathetic parent neglecting his child. Hmm…there’s an interesting metaphor when you consider the fact that I could turn it around and still be defined by it. I’ve been neglecting my child, my unborn child, like an apathetic man neglecting his feelings.
That needs to change because I’m running out of time. It’s been a long pause, but inevitably “play” will be pressed again and I’m going to enter an entirely new stage of life. So, let’s take a look at some emotions.

Guilt
Now that’s a feeling I know. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder seems to be quite fond of this one lately. I feel guilty for doing things I haven’t actually done. This is a long-standing problem which is a discussion reserved for another time. Regardless, for me guilt has many facets. I know Adelle’s condition is not my fault, and not my wife’s fault, so I’m not going to feel guilty for her condition. What I feel guilty about is the fact that I’ve neglected my wife in her time of need, my daughter in the short time that she has here, and my feelings about this entire situation.

Sadness
I wish I felt this one more, but it takes effort. I don’t bond well with my children until they’re born, so I’m sure my sadness will increase uncontrollably after Adelle’s birth. In the meantime, I have to put forth the effort to really think about what I’m not going to have in Adelle. I’m not going to see her first smile, her first steps, her first words. My sons follow me around as I work on the house, yard, and so forth, trying to be just like me, doing the things I do. Charlie even has a toy power drill that looks just like my drill, and when the two of us embrace our power tools, he replaces my shadow as my most loyal follower. But I won’t get to watch Adelle follow her mommy around adorably as she tries to be just like mommy. I won’t get to watch her enter her teenage years and be there for her during that time as her protective daddy who greets every boy at my door with a firm handshake and a shotgun. I won’t teach her to drive. I won’t see her graduate high school. And I won’t be the first to walk her down the aisle. Perhaps these things are a good lead in for my feelings of selfishness.

Selfishness
God is sovereign. He is perfect, and He is good. His love is perfect and eternal. His grace is undeserved. In knowing these things I also know that it is completely His right to determine how long lives are lived. And let’s face it, every human life is short when viewed from eternity. Eighty minutes and eighty years really don’t seem so different from each other compared to how different each is from eternity. But alas, I am selfish. My Lord wants Adelle in heaven far too soon for my liking. Her beauty and her created completeness must be something extra special if God needs her in heaven so soon. I know I should be grateful that He is blessing me with any time at all with Adelle, and I am grateful for it, but I feel I should be more grateful and stop wanting her all to myself. Hey, look at that, we’re back to guilt again. But let’s talk about anger and frustration.

Anger and Frustration
This pregnancy is taking a major toll on my wife. I’m a fixer. I like to fix things, and when I can’t, it frustrates me and even angers me at times. I want to fix this pregnancy, but I can’t. Fine, if I can’t fix the pregnancy, I want to fix my wife who is broken from this pregnancy. She is sad, angry, frustrated. She feels guilty, although not for all the same reasons I do. And what I want is for her to be happy. But just as I can’t fix the pregnancy, I can’t fix her either. I know it’s not my job to fix her, it’s God’s. But here comes selfishness again, making me discontent with waiting on Him to fix her in His timing. I would much rather fix her myself in my timing (like I would have any clue how to do that anyway).

Here’s the bottom line. I want a daughter who I can watch grow up. I want her for longer than a few hours or a few days. I want her for as long as I can get her, and I definitely don’t want to outlive her. I love my boys, don’t get me wrong. But I can also say that, as a teacher, I usually bond with female students better. I definitely have, and have had, some great male students, and the student that I’ve been the closest to is a male. But for whatever reason, I’ve bonded well with more female students than male students. Maybe it comes from my desire to protect. I love being responsible for the well being of the girls I’m in charge of teaching, and I love being sensitive to their needs. When these things happen, I don’t feel the bitterness of insensitivity. And when we serve others by being responsible for their well being and sensitive to their needs, we are conscious of the fact that although human lives are short when viewed from eternity, they are not insignificant or unimportant. As I said, I want a daughter that I won’t outlive and that I can love being responsible for the well being of and whose needs I can love being sensitive to. But I am thankful for Adelle. I will love her for as long as God let’s me have her.

-Jason